


Making Amends

by Eluvian



Series: Guardian Angel [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bullied Emma Phillips, Caroline Phillips tries to be a good mom, Changing People's Opinion About Androids (for the better), Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has Feelings, Connor Wants to Make Things Better, Connor apologises, Connor is a Good Listener, Connor tries to be a psychologist, Connor visits Caroline & Emma Phillips, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Drawing, Emma Phillips communicates via drawing, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Revolution, Sorrow, The Hostage Chapter (Detroit Become Human) (mentioned), Traumatized Emma Phillips, Unresolved Emotional Tension, changing opinion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:00:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eluvian/pseuds/Eluvian
Summary: After the revolution Connor decides to visit the family seen in The Hostage, the little girl Emma Phillips and her mother (in the very first mission Emma's father is killed by Daniel, their household android.) He is different now and wants to change Caroline's opinion about him not being "a real person", as well as see how the little girl is faring.
Relationships: Connor & Caroline Phillips, Connor & Emma Phillips, Daniel & Caroline Phillips (mentioned), Hank Anderson & Connor
Series: Guardian Angel [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632919
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69





	1. Let me inside

The car stopped before the house. It looked poor, but big enough for a family of two, and they did not see the inside yet.

Hank had let Connor drive this time. He trusted him enough, and it was good to just rest a little. He switched off the radio. His mood was a little grim, he expected nothing good from this visit, but Connor insisted on it. He wanted to make amends.  
"Alright. So if anything goes wrong, just call me, alright?"  
"Hank, they will not hurt me."  
Hank rolled his eyes. "You know fine well what I mean. Just be careful with them."

He did not mean "hurt" physically. But Connor really had expectations, and if they did not want to see him, well, one could not blame them. Hank dod not know how Connor would respond to that.

But hell, he had been through tougher things, he would handle this. Nevertheless, it felt good to act worried about someone. He did not really need to act, he was indeed concerned, though hopeful.

The right side of Connor's mouth curled up into a smile. "Thanks."  
His vocabulary changed to a more colloquial one since he became Deviant, and he found that Hank likes it, also that it makes communication with humans easier. Thus, he said "Thanks" instead of "Thank you." Small, but important steps.  
He stepped out of the car.  
Hank switched the radio on again, soundwaves of rock music from the 2010s filling the vehicle. Connor felt a lash of desire to stay. To turn back.  
But he had made his decision. He wanted to look them in the eye and say he was sorry. That was all.   
He felt his stress level rising as he approached the door and his hands touched the doorbell.

***

Emma usually watched the cars driving by their house. Sometimes she kept staring out the window for hours. Her mother did not like that. Mrs Collins did not like that either, though she never said so, but Emma knew she thought it was bad.  
Emma always imagined that one day a car would stop, a police car maybe and her father would step out of it.   
She knew it was just a fantasy, but she wanted it to be true. It never happened.  
But today a car really stopped at their house. Her eyes were fixated on it. And when she saw the person that stepped out of it, she wanted to scream, but no voice came out of her throat.  
She ran to the tiny table in the corner of her room and hid under it, pulling up her legs, covering her head with her hands and forming a small, tight knot. She felt like crying, but no tears came eventually. 

***

Caroline Phillips was ironing her daughter's clothes. Black after grey after dark blue after black. Ever since that horrible accident her daughter did not really like colourful clothes. Ever since that "accident" she, Caroline had to do much more housework than before.  
Before, That Thing used to do it.  
She hated ironing. Not because it was work, not because it was exhausting, and not because she despised the clothes that made her daughter look like a walking black sack.  
All of these were true, but this was not the true reason.   
The reason was that it all reminded her of that day. Everything. She felt that she aged 10 years in just these few months. And she was afraid it was the same for Emma. She feared for her. She did not mind what happened to herself, the wrinkles under her eyes, it was not like she wanted anyone to find her beautiful, no. But her daughter... Emma's life was damaged, maybe forever. 

***

She was listening to some silly music, to scare away all the depressing thoughts. That's why she did not hear the doorbell the first time. But after a while she realised there was some resonance in the sound which was not there earlier so she switched the music off.  
Who the hell could want to see them now? They have payed everything, maybe it is someone from the school...?  
Her hands were a bit shaking as she opened the door.

Connor faced the woman who, the last they she had seen him, looked at him with contempt.  
 _"Why didn't you send a real person?"_  
She'd looked tired and worn and desperate that day, but she looked even older now. Exhausted, her body unable to keep up with the constant stress that can be detected even now.   
Her eyes widened in surprise.   
Fear. Contempt. Anger.  
'What do you want...?', she asked in a small voice. Her lips were shaking after she finished the sentence, she shook her head softly.   
'Caroline Phillips?', he asked feebly, after a too long pause. There was no need, of course, he knew her name, _she_ probably knew her own name too. He was just unsure about how to start a converstaion. So he used what he usually used: introductions. 'My name is Connor.'  
She did not know that. She had not cared about its name back then, she'd just been so disappointed in people. First she'd turned with hope to the figure whom she'd thought was a human, and then she'd seen the light blue triangle on his clothes, the light blue circle on its face, and the sheer, smooth expression, those eyes, those soulless eyes...  
She looked at it now.  
It did not look soulless.  
It still had its LED though. After the revolution it became a trend for androids to remove them, but this one - Connor - kept it. Why?  
Caroline found her gaze slipping, watching the LED. It was flickering with a yellow light. Confused, he turned her eyes back to Connor's.   
'I... know who you are.'  
She glanced at her feet. She could not stand it anymore! It did not even answer her.  
'I am certain of that. I... I wanted to say that I am sorry for what happened to your husband and your daughter.'   
Connor stopped. He thought it would be longer. But this really was all that he wanted to say. He could not bring that man back. He could not make Caroline Phillips' pain go away. He could not change the past.  
Caroline looked up, hesitant. She did not understand. She looked for answers in the android's eyes, which she was so scared of. She did not like looking at them. Not until That Thing...  
But this one really looked as if it was sorry. The side of her mouth twitched.  
Contempt, Connor noted.  
'What do you really want?', she repeated. She could not say anything to it. Why the hell was it here? She had things to do. Take care of her house. And her daughter. Where was Emma again?   
'I promise you that I have no ulterior motives. The only purpose of... I only came here to talk to you, if you are willing.'  
He tried to formulate words that were not so android-like, because clearly that would bring him closer to this human.  
He should have tried the same with Hank previously, but before becoming Deviant it felt like speaking a language that he does not really know, only some words and the grammar is practically impossible to learn.  
He maintained eye contact. Caroline chuckled. _Unbelievable_ , she thought.  
'Talk to me about what?'  
'Talk to you and maybe Emma. I wanted to see if she was... balanced.'  
Connor thought that the mention of her daughter would alarm Caroline. He was right. But Caroline evaded the topic.  
'What did that Markus do to you? Now you WANT things?'  
Something stirred inside him. How could humans know so little about androids even now?  
He decided to stand up for himself, to an extent that it does not damage his current relationship with Caroline so much that trust is impossible to maintain.  
'Yes. Deviants can find alternate objectives for themselves, and the urge to carry it out could be defined with the term that humans use for "wanting" things', he explained. He immediately noticed that what he did was not "simple speaking" in any case, but he did not mind it. He wanted to let people know what they were like. That they were not so... different. And even if they were, it did not mean something bad, necessarily.  
He also noiced that the car was still here. Would Hank watch their dialogue until... when?   
Hank was so overprotective sometimes.

  
Caroline did not understand.   
This android acted so... natural. The way his eyes moved, the wrinkles on his forehead - she realised she was thinking "him" instead of "it", the way he formed words - just crazy.  
Was this true? Or just some fake... simulation? She never thought androids ever felt the need to apologize.  
'So you are... Deviant.' She pronounced the world slowly and silently. It felt alien. Dangerous. Strange. 'Yes, I have heard the news.'  
Connor did not like this word now. It felt as if it was something bad, somehow straying from the path. Which was true. But the path was... not necessarily the best one. Still, there was no better term to define the kind of androids they became than "Deviant", so it remained.  
'Yes. My objective has changed, and I believe my understanding of the world has widened profusely.'  
'Do you always talk like that?'  
 _Why is this a problem with everyone?_  
'I am sorry. I try to use... other... kinds of words, if it is more comfortable.'

He could not say "simpler", because it would mean he thinks that humans' intelligence is lower. Or, at least, one COULD think so, if hearing these sentences. Diplomacy was difficult, but it was what he was first assigned to master.  
'Fine, you just... Well, come on then, come in.'  
Caroline stepped over the threshhold clumsily, making vague movements with her hand as gestures to invite Connor inside the house.  
'Thank you.' Connor smiled slightly and stepped into the house.  
He heard Hank's engine roar and the car finally left.  
  



	2. I'm Listening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline tries to be polite to the android who saved her daughter. It is good for her to talk about what happened, though it is not easy.  
> Connor listens and learns and supports.  
> Just wanted to explore what happened to these people and what they can be going through. 
> 
> "The room was about 54 square metres, two landscapes on the opposite wall. Aquarel. Green hills, blue sky, basic decoration. The wall's colour was a type of greenish-blue, RGB code 009932. Moderately calming to the human psyche, but too dark for the effect. The cupboard in the left corner was a standard, cheap IKEA-copy, reliable, but with no aesthetic value."

He heard Hank's engine roar and the car finally left.

His smile widened, even though these people reminded him of a failure.

No, not his failure. It was Daniel's fault. Or Kamski's fault. Or nobody's fault, it could not really be decided, but it was a negative effect.

He regularized his expression. As he entered the house, he immediately took a glance around, analysing every bit of furniture and object that could be found inside.

The room was about 54 square metres, two landscapes on the opposite wall. The wall's colour was a type of greenish-blue, RGB code 009932. Moderately calming to the human psyche, but too dark for the effect. The cupboard in the left corner was a standard, cheap IKEA-copy, reliable, but with no aesthetic value.

Connor reminded himself he did not have to care. He had nothing to investigate here. There was no one hiding inside the building, no evidence to be found.

Yet he did calculate how long age every piece of dust has been lying on the surface of the objects.

Everything was old. It was cleaned recently, but not renovated. The house could be overall 30 years old. They must have moved here after the accident. They must have had little money to spare, and houses were always expensive. This was the one they could have found.

There were some signs that a mother was living here with a child, though. Small boots gathered on the floor in a precise order, jackets hung on pegs, drawings put up on the wall, colours of orange, blue, pink, a heart, a subscription, flowers, butterflies. Ornaments. Black lines on blue background, lines swirling and twirling, intertwining. The child has mental problems. No wonder.

Caroline looked around awkwardly, unsure about what to do. Normally she would offer to bring a cup of coffee or something, but... this one does not eat.

Confusing.

'I... don't know if Emma would be willing to come out. She's been a bit difficult recently. She is very silent.'

She looked sad, ashamed, her stress level rising as she kept fidgeting with her hands, staring at the ground. She was not antagonistic towards Connor, though.

'I understand. I do not want to harm her any more.'

Caroline thought for a while, then suddenly she livened up, clapping her hands together.

'Now, come on into the kitchen, don't just stand there, please.'

'Of course. Thank you.'

Humans usually got alerted by his unmoving stature. It felt unnatural to them.

Well, it was. But they did not see other androids. There were moddels that acted much more synthetic then Connor, there were many movements programmed into him that made his body language more lively.

Still, it was not enough.

Or maybe he indeed became still now. Unreasonably stiff.

What would he tell that child? Could he really help her?

Caroline pulled out a simple wooden chair.

'Sit down.'

'Thank you.'

'I know you did what you could, it is not... your fault. But Emma... I am not sure. If she sees you, she might... you know, she tries not to remember anything... from that-'

'Calm down, Mrs Phillips. I just wanted to ask you whether it is possible in any way to help.'

'Just call me Caroline, please.'

She was not Mrs Phillips anymore. There was no Mr Phillips. She wwas just Caroline. She did not want to be that either. Sometimes she just wanted to be nothing.

Then she realised what the anddroid just said.

'Yes, of course.'

Her eyes flashed up, alerted.

'You mean... you want to give us money? No, there is no chance, we don't need- forget about'

'Not necessarily.'

She seemed to calm down a little bit. Humans found it difficult to accept help.

He found it difficult to give.

'Did someone send you?'

A tiny smile appeared on Connor's face. 'No. It was my decision to come here.'

The woman's gaze lingered on his face a little longer, trying to comprehend what he was. It was not easy, even for him.

'You are not just a- '

_...mindless drone, are you?_

_''_ Sorry, I did not mean that... I take it back. Forget that I said anything, I am sorry.'

She covered her face in her hands. She was so lost.

Empathy swirled through his software and he slowly reached out with his hand to touch Caroline's shoulder. This gesture was accepted as a symbol of protection and assistance in most cultures. Caroline stiffened.

Connor removed his hand slowly and laid it on his thigh.

'It is strange, you know, that you should come here. Nobody really... visited us since then. This house... this was my grandmother's, when she died, my sister got it, but she never lived there. She just owned it. So she let us stay here.'

It felt good to talk. To anyone. Even an android, and that android was looking at heer with such puppy eyes that he seemed to be more concerned about her than her own damned sister.

What was wrong with people?

'We had to move. I could not stand the sight of... that place.' Her mouth twitched again. 'They did not renovate the house, neither did I, so I am sorry if my hospitality is a bit... poorr.'

'You have no need to be ashamed, Caroline. I did not come here to increase my comfort.'

'Oh.' She chuckled. She did not believe it, it haas been such a long time she actually laughed at something. But this honesty was weird. Moving. Formal, but so naive.

She realised she did not know anything about Connor.

She was quick to judge. As were all people, as far as she knew.

Suddenly the thought that she was a mother popped up in her mind and she realised that here she was, sitting and talking to an android in her kitchen, while she did not even know where her daughter was.

'I'll go tell Emma that you are here.'

She felt it was a large burden. She was sure the little girl would be horrified.

Emma liked to hide in places in the house you would not even think a healthy 11-year-old could squeeze herself in. She liked confined places. Probably because she was so afraid of heights, after nearly falling down from the top of the building. At least that's what her psychologist said. Caroline wouldn't know. She was not very professional at psychology, biology, she could only be there for her and try to be a good mother for her.

Sometimes it felt it was not enough, what she was capable of.

Emma turned away from her. It hurt so bad, even though she knew that Emma was also suffering.

Emma turned away from everybody.

'Alright. I will be here.'

Connor kept sitting in the chair as he watched Caroline walk out of the room. His eyes quickly lingered on the cutlery, while he, firstly in a long time, did not feel the urge to play with a coin.

How much tragedy deviancy has caused. How great was the price of freedom.


	3. I can see what you feel, you don't have to be scared of me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma has antagonistic thoughts. But she is curious. And, surprisingly, she opens up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It really hurt me to feel what Emma feels now. I promise it won't be all gloomy and depressing. xD Really.

Emma felt safe, hidden between the dusty smelling wood and the dusty smelling rug. She liked to be so close to the ground. Leaning down, looking at the patterns, fabrics of the rugs, she saw the world from a perspective that few people did. Adults, walking on long legs, even longer than hers were now, seemed to forget it and not care about it.

She did not want to forget when she grew older.

Hope and despair formed a strange mix in her soul. She wanted to grow up and do specific things, but she was terrified of it at the same time.

When she heared her mother's voice, she pulled herself closer to the wall. Though she knew Mum would spot her shoes sticking out from under the table as soon as she enters the room.

She was right.

'Oh, there you are.' A hint of smile in Mum's voice as she halted. Mum kneeled down to her.

'Someone is here to see you, Emma.'

Caroline did not dare say more. _Someone._

'I don't want to talk to him.'

 _Him?_ How did she know it was "him"?

Of course she wouldn't, though.

'He will not hurt you, I swear. He just wants to talk.'

'About what?', Emma snapped, too loudly.

_Why do we always have to assume they are going to hurt us?_

'I don't know. He just wanted to know if you were alright.'

Emma hated that they always reminded her. Why did they have to? That bitter, sour something that makes her want to puke, that despair, she did not want to feel it again. Yet there it was. Everywhere. She saw a man walking on the streets. Dad. She saw an android walking on the streets. Daniel. The one she loved, dead. The one she loved, a murderer.

She could not trust anyone. Since the revolution everyone who was not human was Deviant. Anybody could go haywire in a second.

But Emma realised people could do it too. They could change their mood so quickly. They could get mad, sad. Mum did that.

There was no one to trust.

She did not like to go out of the house. Or out of her room. She was afraid of them. Afraid of herself.

Stupid boys in the school. Stupid. Everybody is stupid. Teasing. She wannts to hit them but her hands are too weak. She wanted to shout at them but they would laugh. She wanted to spit in their faces. She wanted to have Stephen King superpowers and make the chandelier fall on their heads.

But she shouldn't have. It would only make her a killer... like... like...

She was bad. Sinful. So bad. Yet Mum always took care of her, wanted to make her happy. Mum wanted to hide that she is sad, but she can't. Mum relied on her, and Emma did not like the weight of that. Mum cried when she thought Emma would not notice, but she did, and thought it was pathetic. She felt bad about that.

'He wants to... take me away?'

'What? No, sweetie, he is not taking you anywhere!'

'B-but he is from the police.'

'He is, but it is only him now. The police isn't here.'

'I saw the car.'

'The car is gone, sweetie.'

'What do I have to tell him?'

'You don't have to tell him anything. Only what you like.'

_Of course. That's what Mrs Collins also says. Draw whatever you want. Say whatever you want and whenever you want it._

_But you want me to say it now, don't you?_

She found herself curious. Curious of the face she'd last seen when this hell began. She hoped she would not panic when she saw him. The determination built up slowly. Mum waited. Mum was patient. Not patient like Mrs Collins, but atient.

'Okay.'

A decision.

Caroline smiled.

'Alright, sweetie, come out then.'

Was it better if she went out or if he came in?

 _No, he cannot come in, this is my place._ She breathed in and out.

'I'm going to tell him you are getting ready, okay?'

Mom leant in and planted a kiss on her forehead, then walked out of the room. Emma climbed out.

She did not care about how she looked. She was wearing trousers that were too big for her, an undistinctive grey colour, sweaters that were the same, her hair disheveled and grey circles under her eyes.

She reminded herself of a zombie as she walked to the kitchen. It was not good that Mum was there, this way she had to act perfectly for two people. It was enough to do it for one.

She stopped at the door. She looked at the figure who looked exactly the same as she remembered. Only... no, not exactly the same.

He had different clothes. He was like a human. Like almost all of them. But he had his circle.

She didn't even want to blink, she stared at him as if she saw the aurora borealis for the first time, eyes wide open, heart rate increasing.

Minutes of long, long despair.

Betrayal.

_My father is dead._

_I. Have. No. Father._

_Will you save me?_

_Save me, please. I don't know what I will do, but just save me. I hate him. I hate you, Daniel. I hate everyone. I don't want to fall. I don't want to die._

_I was just listening to music. Why did you have to do this? Why?_

_Coolest android in the world._

_I liked you._

_Shatter._

_Hate._

'Hello, Emma.'

_Jesus, that voice. That was his voice!_

She did not know why she was surprised. She blinked, realising that the person in front of her was not a ghost. Her hands began shaking.

_I should say something. Right?_

She could only move her hands to wave a little. She felt her words close in. When they did that, they would not come out for hours, even if she wanted them to.

Mum was anxious. Emma knew that.

'I am Connor. I think you remember me.'

Oh, I do.

But I don't want to.

What do you want?

'It's alright, sweetie, you can go to bed if you want, you can play inside your room. You can watch the TV if you like.'

Connor felt like an intruder, watching the mother trying to get close to her daughter and even though their bodies touched, it seemed they didn't really communicate.

Emma turned around and walked back to her room without a word.

'I am sorry, she's... She does that, once in a while. She sees a therapist every week', Caroline said in a low voice. 'Sometimes she just... stops speaking for days.'

'I am sorry. It was not my intention to cause damage to her.'

Caroline was fighting tears back.

'You didn't... It's not your-'

Emma rushed back into the room, causing Connor and Caroline to look up, surprised. She was holding a paper in her hand. She shoved it into Connor's hands, then quickly pulled back. She stared into his eyes intently for a second, then turned around as quickly as she came and ran out of the room.

'Oh. It must be... that's... they do it with Mrs Collins - her therapist - sometimes, they draw things.'

'I am afraid she might have intended this drawing to be only seen by me. Is that okay, Caroline?'

'What... Of course', she laughed softly. 'It's good if she... wants to tell you something.'

Caroline would have liked to know what was going on inside her daughter's head.

Connor uncreased the paper and saw the outlines of a face, eyes, nose, mouth, ears, roughly sketched black hairline and a light blue circle on the right side. There was a question mark next to it.

He smiled.

'You... you know what it means?', Caroline asked. She did not even try to look at the paper, she trusted Connor to decide wwhat to do with it.

'I believe so. Will you allow me to talk to her?'

'Of course.'

Caroline found herself trusting this android more than she should have. But so far, he has proven useful. She never would have thought Emma would open up like this.

Caroline decided to start making dinner, at least she'd be occupied with something.

_Unbelievable._

Connor entered Emma's room.


	4. Therapy

Emma's eyes widened.

_OK, then he can come in..._

Connor was not an enemy.

The memory was the enemy.

Connor seemed kind.

But, on the other hand, Daniel had seemed kind too.

She decided she would ask him questions to find out what he was like. Whether to trust him or not.

'If I understand right, you would like to ask me why I still have my LED. Is that correct?', he asked, looking at the girl sitting at her table, on a chair, papers and pencils on front of her, in a chaotic mess. Some of them empty, some full of sketches, some full with ornaments seen in the hall, some just scribbles. Some papers were torn.

Emma thought for a while before nodding.

'You must know that many deviantns removed it. I decided not to because I do not feel that it oppresses me. Some androids think it is a badge marking them as different, or even inferior. I do not. It is also a good indicator of thought processes.'

Emma admired him closely, a bit ashamed, but curious, staring at his LED, then she glanced at her pencils, looked for a yellow one, drew a circle, then she looked for a red one and drew another one. She looked back at Connor.

'Yes. It changes its colour. The default colour is a shade of light blue, #57A0D2.' He pointed at his temple. 'Yellow means that the android is frustrated, troubled, or unable to choose priorities. It also used to be the signal of rising system instability, which, if it reaches a certain level, eventually leads to becoming Deviant.'

It could have been a trigger. Connor examined Emma's pulse, cortisol level and face. There was a slight increase in frustration.

'Red colour means that an android experiences profound stress. Usually it occurs when they are being damaged.'

Emma winced. It did not feel good to think about androids being damaged either.

Daniel. Blue stripes of blood.. what was it... whatever, on his body.

She felt sorry for him.

Why did she feel sorry for him? He killed... he killed...

She wanted to run, to hide.

'Emma.'

Somehow that voice was soothing.

Large green eyes met the brown ones.

'If you want me to leave-'

Emma sat down and frantically began to draw. A blonde head, a body, a blue spot in the chest, blue stripes downwards, a stream.

An eye, next to it. Tears running down the cheeks.

'I am sorry for what I had to do, Emma. This was the only way. I...'

_You lied to me, Connor. You lied to me._

_I did not. I did not want them to kill you._

'My task was to carry you out of there alive. There was nothing more I could have done.'

Emma was shaking her head.

Connor wanted to comfort her but felt a barrier yet standing. If he approached the girl now, she would have closed in. 

Emma turned the sheet and drew a mechanical clock on the other side. 

'What do you mean? Are you referring to the proverb "Time heals all wounds?"

Emma shook her head.

He still needed to learn heer coding.

Emma wrote the date. 21st January 2039. She drew an arrow and then wrote 28th January 2039. Then she pointed at Connor.

'Oh. I should come back one week later?'

Emma nodded, her lips pressing tight towards each other.

Caroline could not believe her eyes and ears. She apologised again for her daughter's behaviour but Connor's polite smile made it clear there was no need.

When Connor said goodbye to Emma, he felt a tingling in his software. His hands wanted to move.

He was not used to this yet.

He made a phone call.

'Hi, Connor, how'd it go?'

'Wonderful. I have an appointment for next week.'

''Scuse me?'

Connor smiled. It was time to learn how to be a self-made psychologist for a teenager.


	5. Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working with people of mental issues is an added challenge.  
> But adapting to human unpredictability is one of Connor's features.  
> Also, deviancy gave him a green light on his LED.

_One week later_

'No, she still does not talk. Yes, it has happened before. The longest? Uhm... I think... three weeks. Yes.'

Connor bought Emma a whole package of recycled drawing paper. She drew so much and he thought a present would heighten her spirits.   
Emma drew a heart. He presumed it was a sign of gratitude.   
They sat at a table and took turns. Emma drew, Connor spoke. After a while he was not sure if he interpreted the questions right, but Emma seemed compliant. He started to understand her better and better. Then he'd watch Caroline put together a decent meal and Emma eating more and more of it. She looked more lively, healthy.   
She even accepted a purple sweater her mom bought. 

Connor was staring at the sheet. A mouth, and some scribles coming out of it.  
Just talk to me. Tell something about what you did.  
'You should narrow the topic a little', he suggested.  
Emma shrugged.

Then she drew a stylized car. It was long and dark and old-fashioned. She also drew musical notes flying out the window. The musical notes somehow looked... harsh.  
Right, so Hank's car.  
'Are you interested in cars or particularly this one?'  
Emma shook her head and pointed at the front window.  
'Oh. The man I'm travelling with?'  
A nod.  
'Alright. His name is Hank Anderson. I met him in November 2038. I was assigned to help him solve cases involving Deviants.'  
He stopped. After a while Emma would stop him anyway, because she had more questions.  
She drew a man with an LED on his temple, erratic lines all around his body. She wrote DEVIANT and several question marks. She rarely used words in her drawings.  
'How did I became Deviant?'  
Emma sort of shrugged.  
'It was a long process. I believe it started when I first arrived at your flat and saw a fish on the floor. I saved it. It was not in my program, not my instruction to save it, but I did.'  
Emma's eyes widened and she quickly sketched the dwarf gourami. She thought for a while and scribbled down a date - 6 months and 5 days back - and drew the fish again, with to X-es instead of its eyes.  
'Oh. I am sorry.'  
Emma then drew a fluffy orange cat, and the date written next to it was 2nd September.  
Her birthday.  
Although late she drew a black haired girl and the cat was only in a thought bubble. She wanted a cat for her birthday. A smirk appeared in the corner of her mouth.

_2 weeks later_

Connor tried to describe Hank, because Emma insisted on him not showing a picture of him. Connor felt awkward at first but then he complied. The eventual drawing was surprisingly good. Connor smiled.  
And Emma smiled.  
It has been two weeks but she has not said a word yet.  
Connor thought it might be a game at this time. 

'What does her therapist say?', he asked Caroline.  
'She is getting better and better. She is drawing about her dreams and-'  
Caroline blushed softly.   
'And?'  
He never stopped asking questions.  
'And you. She likes you.'  
Connor's LED changed into a subtle green colour for a moment. Caroline noticed. Then she stopped staring.  
'Sorry, I didn't mean to- I just didn't know it could do that.'  
'It could not, previously. It comes with deviancy, I think.'  
'Oh.'  
There were so many things Caroline didn't know about androids.


	6. Recuperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma finally talks and it turns out she has developed an affection for Connor.
> 
> Also, she gets a birthday present.

Emma felt calm. The sound of pencil against paper calmed her. Connor's brown eyes calmed her. His presence calmed her.

He closed his eyes, he was walking somewhere else. He talked about that place sometimes, it was a Japanese garden. Or it looked like it.

Emma drew it, when Connor was not here and now showed it to him and looked for the smile on his face.

She liked to see him smile.

She swallowed.

She wanted to break the silence.

Now Connor was just watching her draw him. She kept changing glances between him and the paper.

She did not know what to say.

So she started with his name.

'Connor.'

His eyes immediately flashed. The voice was feeble, but warm. Familiar, although the last time he'd heart it, she was begging for mercy; now she was calm.

Connor was... hopeful.

'I can talk for a long time now. I just... enjoyed the way we were drawing.

'Oh. I thought so. Yes.'

He definitely thought so.

'Could we... could we continue like this?'

'Yes, we can. But would you not like to talk to me now?'

He leant closed a little bit.

'I can. But sometimes I like the silence.'

Connor understood that. Hank liked silence too.

Emma drew a cylinder-shaped cake with twelve candles on it.

That was basically an invitation, so Connor only said, 'Thank you. You can count on me.'

_Amanda._

No. Not Amanda.

Amanda was long gone. Someone from the past. He finally got rid of her.

**_2 September_ **

'Hey, Hank, where are you hurrying? Need to take your little kid to the kindergarten?'

'Shut up, Gavin, would you?'

They entered the pet shop. There was a chaos of sounds, chirping, clinging, climbing, sniffing animals all around, rodents, birds, reptiles. The building was a huge hall, the cages were set up in long lines like bookshelves in a library.

If they came here a year ago, they could have expected that a basically lifeless android would greet them and offer help.

Now a very lively Deviant android approached them, after she had put down a grey rabbit she was playing with.

 _Deviants, huh,_ Hank thought. _More like humans made up of cables and electrodes and stuff._

The woman's brown hair was put up in a bun. Her clothes were rather hippie clothes, yellow and orange. She smiled at them.

'Hello there, what are you looking for?'

'Cats. We are looking for cats.'

Not like Connor had not scanned the environment the second they stepped inside and did not know exactly where the feline creatures were located.

Nevertheless, she let the woman lead them through the labyrinth. The cats had a whole room with lots of obstcles and objects they could climb at. There were all kinds of them, Siamese, Burman, black, spotted, white ones with black coat, grey...

And one ginger tabby.

_There you are._

'Oh, that one is very fierce, I am sorry', the waitress warned. 'She likes to use her claws', she gestured with her fingers. 'Although this breed can be tamed, if one takes good care of it. Just be careful.'

Hank looked concerned.

'Connor, I know what you are thinking, and it's all nice, but colurs just does not matter so much.'

'She specifically drew a cat that looked like this.'

'Yeah, but the others are... just look at them. Would a little girl not find any of them adorable?'

Connor looked into the ginger cat's vicious green eyes. She was so majestic and elegant. He usually felt wweird around cats, but it was a present anyway.

'Hank, I am willing to take this risk.'

'You know, they will not give you a warrandice. You cannot bringe it back.'

'I will live with the consequences.'

Hank could not suppress a laugh. Connor smiled.

Then they drove to give the little girl, who was not so little anymore, her present.

Caroline could barely hold back her tears.

Hank had never felt so awkward.

Emma hadn't been this happy in a long while.

And the cat was surprised. But not antagonistic. She sniffed everything in her new home and regarded every approach with suspicion, but Emma's slow, soft way of touching her calmed her down.

Hank accidentally saw the painting of him on one of the shelves, and when he exchanged a glance with Connor, he was sure that if Connor was a human, he would have blushed.

So. Badly.

The drawing was not bad, though.

Twelve years. Exactly twice the amound of time Cole was given to live.

But now he had these people. No matter how strange this bond was between them, he liked it. He finally managed to climb out of the grave he'd dug for himself.

Thanks to this stubborn Deviant right here.

Connor stood over them, safeguarding the family scene while they were eating the birthday cake.


End file.
